Johnny
by sstacker92
Summary: Started as a oneshot, now series of loosely connected oneshots! Check it out.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone was staring at him. An outsider who did not know Dr. Greg House would have assumed it was because of his pronounced limp and his ironic cane with painted flames snaking up the wood. No, the nurses were used to that. They stared at him partially confused and thoroughly amused at the mini- House with tiny fingers intertwined in the older man's bigger ones.

Like father like son, Johnny was dressed in jeans and a rumpled t- shirt. Both House and son grabbed cherry suckers from the nurse's station on the way to Cuddy's office. Cuddy heard the tell- tell thumping of House's cane and braced herself for his "grand" entrance. As expected, the doors to her office flew open a few seconds later.

"Had to bring the rug rat, daycare is closed," he said simply, then turned to exit the office.

"Johnny you're gonna leave without giving your favorite Aunt Lisa a hug?" she asked mock sadness lathering her voice. Johnny laughed and tugged free of his father's grasp to hug her. "Oh, you're getting so strong," she exclaimed, and this only made Johnny hug her tighter.

"Come on, let's go bug Uncle Wilson," said House.

"'Kay, can we steal his toys again?" he asked, excited.

"Yeah," he said, a smirk playing on his face. Johnny was definitely his kid. Johnny grabbed his hand and they stalked off to Wilson's office.

The door to Wilson's office slammed open, and Wilson only sighed. His best friend would never learn. He turned around to find Johnny already rummaging through the small toy box in the corner of the room. House was on the couch smiling and watching his son enjoy the toys. Wilson sat quietly for a moment, enjoying the scene before him. It was a rarity to see House smile, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

"Johnny wanted to say hi," House said, snapping Wilson out of his reverie.

"Hi, Uncle Wilson!" Johnny piped in.

Wilson chuckled. "Hey Johnny," he said, ruffling the little boy's hair. "You should really get this boy a haircut," Wilson said, turning to House.

"The crazy kid won't let me go within ten miles of a barber," House explained.

Just then, Cuddy walked in. "House, time for your clinic hours."

"But Mom," he complained, "do I have to? Johnny hates the clinic"

"No I don't," Johnny said, "I like making fun of all the idiots."

This was the last clinic patient of the day, and the House boys wanted to have some fun. House walked into exam room one. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. Before the grungy teen on the exam table could get a word in edge wise, Johnny entered the room.

"Gregory House," Johnny said, matching his father's voice perfectly, "What are you doing here? Go find your mother. Now!" Johnny exclaimed.

House said in particularly whiney voice, "But dad"

Then he was cut off by his son's, "I mean it. Go. Now" House limped out of the office, head hung low. He stopped just outside door to hear the rest of the skit they had planned. His son turned to the patient, "I'm Dr. Jonathan House, nice to meet you!" he said, thrusting his hand out. The confused teen shook his hand.

"Now, what's wrong with you?" the 6 year old asked, all business.

"Ummm… shouldn't that other guy be doing this?" the teen asked.

"What? Don't tell me you want that _child_ to examine you! Boy, you must be dumb!" Johnny exploded with laughter, and his father reentered.

"You have a cold. It will get better on its own," House stated plainly, and they both left, laughing their heads off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Although I don't particularly care if I get reviews, I would like to thank those who did. I think I will do a series of loosely connected one shots for House and Johnny.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned House M.D., I would be writing the script, not this.**

**Peter Fennen**

House woke up to a biting pain in his thigh. _Crap, _he thought, _I left my pills in the bathroom. _Biting his lip to keep from screaming, he stood. Pain radiated up his leg, and he bit harder, drawing blood. The bathroom now seemed miles away, but he couldn't let his son see him like this. He needed relief and fast. He took a step and fell to the ground. He prayed to the God he didn't believe in that Johnny didn't wake up.

Now on the floor, House remembered his secret stash under the bed. He scrambled to find the familiar orange bottle and frantically twisted the cap off. He had just dry swallowed two Vicodin when he heard the familiar pattering of tiny feet.

"Da-" Johnny stopped in his tracks when he saw his father on the floor in pain. "Are you alright?" he asked, running up to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Johnny, go get ready for school, I'll be out in a minute," he stretched a fake smile over his face, hoping the pain meds would kick in soon.

"No, dad you are not fine!" Johnny yelled, "I may be six, but I'm not stupid! Stop lying to me!" The last sentence came out as a sob. "You shouldn't lie to me. I am your son and I deserve to know the truth!" Letting out a sigh, Johnny cried into his father's shoulder.

"Sorry Johnny," House said, "I won't lie again, I promise." With that, House hugged his son tighter, the pain forgotten. His leg stopped trying to kill him, and House pulled himself up on the bed. "Look Johnny, the medicine is kicking in. I am fine. Now go get ready for school."

**Later**

House was trying to nap in the clinic when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. "What," he grumbled.

"This is Mrs. Weaver, the principal at Princeton Elementary. It seems your son Jonathan his gotten into a fist fight. I need you to come here as soon as possible."

On the drive there, House was contemplating all the ways he could kill whichever unlucky kid chose to punch his son. He was up to plan K when he pulled into the small parking lot across from the school. He walked with familiarity to the principal's office. He had been there often enough. Johnny wouldn't be a House if he didn't cause some trouble now and then.

When he entered the office, he found his son sitting in a chair across from Mrs. Weaver's desk, an ice pack on his left eye. House took the seat next to his son and pulled the ice pack away. The sight of Johnny's swollen eye made House shake with anger. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Through clenched teeth he asked, "Who did this to my son?"

"Peter Fennen," Mrs. Weaver replied. A look of hatred passed over the doctor's features, and she quickly added, "Dr. House you should know that your son threw the first punch."

House relaxed a little. Suddenly his son was crying. "What's wrong Johnny?" House asked, forgetting all about Mrs. Weaver.

"I didn't mean t-to," he said, in between sobs. "H-he said that I was a l-loser cuz I don't have a mom. He t-told me I was such a bad kid that I c-couldn't have anyone but a

c-crippled dad. I t-told him that I had the best dad ever, and then I punched him. I couldn't help it. I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Weaver."

"It's okay. Anytime someone tells you something like that, tell your teacher or me. Just don't punch anyone else, and I'll let you off the hook. Dr. House would you like to take Johnny home?" Mrs. Weaver asked. House gave a grim nod, took Johnny's hand and limped out of her office. Silently Mrs. Weaver applauded the kid, but she couldn't say it out loud. She was, after all, the principal.

"Hey, Johnny, dad has some work to do. Do you mind if we hang out at the hospital for a while?" House asked.

"Naw. That means I can show the cute nurse in Pediatrics my eye. Chicks go nuts for that sort of thing," Johnny replied.

House chuckled. _Only six and he's already gotten girls figured out, _he thought. Once they entered PPTH, Johnny ran to the Pediatrics wing and House stalked to Wilson's office.

House burst through the door to find Wilson with a patient. She looked about forty and had a bright red baseball cap placed firmly over her bald head.

"What do you want, House?" Wilson asked, irritated.

"Fire! You better go," he said, pointing to the patient, sarcasm dripping from the comment.

The lady just rolled her eyes and walked out of the office.

"Wow, was she actually _smiling_? Usually people come from your office crying their eyes out," House said.

"She's in remission, House. Stop deflecting, you obviously need to talk about something," Wilson said.

House slumped on the couch and gave Wilson a look that told him this was hard to talk about. "It's that idiot, Peter Fennen," House finally said. House sighed. He didn't know how to say what he felt.

"Ok… who's Peter Fennen?" Wilson asked, confused.

"Just a moron who told my son that he had a loser dad," House replied simply.

Wilson saw the problem. "House, you may not be able to play tag with your son, but you _are_ a good dad. Johnny loves you and wouldn't trade you for the world."

"You sure about that, Wilson?" House asked.

"I am sure," Wilson said putting his hand on House's shoulder.

House shrugged it off, stood up and turned to leave. He smirked and said, "I guess you're right. I mean my son _did_ punch out the kid. He must love me."

"He did what?!" Wilson asked, but House had already left.


End file.
